


Teen Vampire

by JRonnel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Bloodlust, Immortal Stiles Stilinski, Vampire Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 16:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14720006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JRonnel/pseuds/JRonnel
Summary: Originally posted on Fanfiction. One dark, moonless night, Stiles finds himself going through a situation so similar yet incredibly different from the night when Scott was bitten. Stiles get's changed into something darker, bloodier, and full of way more mysteries. Going through high school as a werewolf is one thing, but what about going through high school full of were-beasts as a vampire?





	1. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.

Teen Vampire

Prologue

He tasted blood.

He could smell it, feel it on his skin. Stiles held a blood covered hand over the gushing bite wound on his neck. His breath was labored and he felt weak, using only the base of the tree as support. He didn't know where his phone went or even where he was. He knew he was somewhere in the woods but he didn't know where exactly. It was pitch black outside, not even the moon shone.

Stiles couldn't remember why he came into the woods but he was deeply regretting it right now. Something with glowing eyes had come out of nowhere and bit him. His first thought was that it had been a werewolf but all the werewolves he knew were bitten on the side of the abdomen not the throat and the bite was never too deep. The wound was gushing blood and was showing no sign of stopping.

There was also on other major problem about his hunch of it being a werewolf, it wasn't a full moon. The thing's eyes too, they weren't red. They were a bright, vibrant blue with white pupils and black scleras. Yeah, definitely not a werewolf.

The thing was a man and he was crouched in front of the bleeding teen. He seemed to observe him for a moment before reaching for his pocket. Stiles watched the man in horror as he took out a blade. The teen's eye went wide in fear, thinking the guy was going to kill him but instead, the supernatural man, thing slid the blade over his own wrist, drawing blood.

The coppery smell hit the air like a heavy perfume, causing Stiles's nose to twitch. He had never known blood to smell so strong and he was currently covered in it. He let out a weak gasp when the man smiled, showing off pearly white fangs that were coated in a layer of blood. They weren't like werewolf fangs. They were slightly longer, thinner, sharper, more curved and looked much more deadly. The man's lower canines barely grew out compared to the top ones. They were still too long and sharp to be human, but they didn't grow nearly as far out like a werewolf's did.

Stiles couldn't stop the yelp escape his lips when the man shoved his bloody wrist against the sheriff son's mouth, the taste of the man's blood coating his tongue in seconds. He tried to pull away but he was too weak and the man was way too strong. He struggled to breathe as blood slid down the inside of his throat, causing a strange surge to erupt throughout his body.

Something was very wrong here. Stiles already knew that there no way in hell that the guy was actually human and he wasn't a werewolf either, so what was he? Unfortunately, Stiles didn't have the strength or the willpower to ask at the moment. He did know that the man emitted an incredibly powerful, dominating aura that easily would have rivaled the demon alpha, Deucalion.

The strange man pulled his arm away, Stiles having already drank a good portion of the man's blood. Stiles stared in horror at the man as he laughed with glee, pleased with what ever he had just done. The teen didn't know what it was, but he knew it wasn't good.

Stiles suddenly choked. It felt like he couldn't breathe all the sudden. He felt his heart pick up speed at an alarming pace. His body started to tingle, like it was repeatedly being prodded with thousands of tiny little needles. Something wasn't right, the guy did something to him. He felt strange, like something deep within him was changing.

His body began to tremble, his choked gasps barely escaping his bloody lips. Oh god, he was going to die. He was going to die in the woods with a freaky eyed psychopath with fangs. The bastard was laughing at him. He watched in pure enjoyment as Stiles struggled to suck in air that he so desperately needed.

"Easy there, you don't want to send yourself into shock now do you?" The man's calm, toying voice sent uneasy shivers down Stiles's spine. "Don't fight it, let it take over and it'll be less painful."

He didn't know why, but Stiles's body practically forced itself to relax as the man's words washed over him. He went limp, his eyes almost completely shut. His body trembled as whatever supernatural force raged within him, twisting and changing him into something inhuman. He felt himself slipping. He was getting to weak and too tired to stay awake. He couldn't even move.

He wanted to call Scott, scream for help, but he couldn't. He felt so helpless. Consciousness was slipping through his fingers, making it harder for the teen to keep his heavy eye lids from closing.

He looked up at his attacker as the man- no- monster, stood up. "What did you-you do to me?" Stiles barely managed to slur out.

The thing grinned down at him, his bloody fangs practically glowing in the night.

"I gave you immortality."


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.

Teen Vampire

Chapter 1

Scott, along with the rest of the pack, was running through the hospital, desperate to keep up with the group of doctors and nurses carting his bloody best friend through the halls. They had gotten to the hospital the same time the ambulance did and none of them were prepared for what they saw. Stiles was pale, disoriented, bloody, and fighting to breathe. Scott's heart clenched whenever Stiles would try to sit up as the he was carted. They would push him back down and ignore the slurred gibberish that seemed to never stop flowing from his lips.

His eyes were glazed over, the entire left side of his face, neck, and collarbone was caked in blood. Some of it was still wet. The sight of the deep, ugly wound on his neck made Scott want to scream in anger. His best friend had been attacked and no one was there to save him. Scott knew it was a bite wound on the side of his neck, he could practically smell the supernatural aura pouring from the wound, but something was off about it. Something told him it wasn't a werewolf bite. Scott wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or worried about it. If a werewolf didn't bite him, what did?

"Stiles, you need to stop moving and lie down." Melissa frantically said as she pushed the bloody teen down once again. Stiles refused to hold still. Even when he didn't sit up. He kept moving around in the bed, turning over from side to side, trying to figure out what was happening in his haze of confusion. Melissa had to shove a breathing mask over his face again. He kept ripping it off, but every time he did, he started to choke.

"Mom, what's wrong with him? Is he going to be okay? Why can't he breathe?" Scott was panicking, scared to death that his friend wouldn't make it. He hated seeing Stiles so out of it and broken especially since the whole ordeal with the nogitsune. A non smiling Stiles set off alarm bells in Scott's mind like crazy now.

"Scott, you and your friends need to go wait in the waiting room. We'll take care of him." Melissa didn't even look up to met her son's eyes as she spoke, too focused on the disoriented teen below her.

The whole pack refused to leave, following the group of doctors all the way to the room that they carted Stiles into. They were pushed out of the room and the door was shut, leaving the wolves no choice but to watch through the window. Sheriff Stilinski joined them, having just gotten away from his duties as the sheriff. He was the one who responded to the call about a boy found unconscious and bloodied in the woods.

"What's happening? Is he alright?" He asked the pack.

No one answered him, they didn't need to. Instead, the sheriff looked through the window and was met with the sight of the doctors fighting to hold Stiles down. He looked like he was going into a panic attack. His eyes were still hazy and unfocused but they were full of fear. It took six nurses to hold him down so they could hook him up to the necessary machines.

The entire pack gulped in fear when they heard the shrill beeping of the heart monitor. It was way too fast, dangerously too fast. Their eyes widened in horror when the sound of Stiles's desperate gasps reached their sensitive ears. He was suffocating. The heart monitor picked up even more. The doctors and nurses shouted at each other, working frantically to hook him up to a respirator. Stiles fought them in a flurry of panic. He didn't try to sit up anymore, but instead opted to start throwing himself around in the hospital bed.

"Hold him down!" One of the nurses screamed.

"NO! NO! NOO!" Stiles started screaming, going into the full on panic attack. Every touch from someone set him even further over the edge.

Tears stung Scott's eyes at the sight of his best friend like that. His heart clenched in sorrow and he knew that the rest of the pack, and Stiles's dad, looked the same as he did. He had to fight every instinct in him to not run in to the room and help Stiles himself. He could hear Derek growling softly. the growls sounded almost like panicked whines, filled with desperation. He must be fighting to run in the room as well.

Stiles suddenly shot up in the bed, momentarily stunning the doctors. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" A loud, gut wrenching scream ripped at Stiles's vocal cords, causing every one in the hospital to wince. The pack had to cover their ears, it was so loud. Every bit of terror, fear, and desperation was let out through that painful scream. Scott could practically hear the shredding sound of Stiles's vocal cords as he screamed them raw.

Then, like someone had flipped an off switch, Stiles stopped. Everyone stared wide eyed at the teen in shock. His own eyes were wide and grimace was puling at his lips. His eyes were hazy, lost in some other world. The heart monitor was completely normal and his breathing came out in rhythmic breaths.

For a split second, Stiles's eyes met Scott's own shocked ones. Then, suddenly, Stile's eyes rolled into the back of his head. His body hit the bed with a limp thud and the sudden shrill of the monitor flat-lining pierced the air. For a moment, no one reacted, unsure if what they just saw even happened. They stared at Stiles's limp frame in horror.

"Get the paddles. Get the paddles!" Melissa's frantic demand brought everything back to life. Everyone immediately scrambled to get the teen's heart beating again. The sound of electricity charging filled the room, but before anyone could bring the paddles to Stiles's chest, his eyes shot open.

He started coughing and greedily sucked in air. The heart monitor was back to normal once more, as if it never flat line. Stiles sat up in the bed, ignoring the orders to lay back down. "Wha?" He slurred. "What happened? What's going on?"

Melissa grabbed his arm, drawing his attention. "Honey, you're in the hospital. You were attacked. Do you remember anything?" She asked.

Stiles stared at her, shocked. "I-I don't- I don't know. I- what?" He stuttered out, his eyes still hazy.

"Take it easy, Stiles. How are you feeling? Do you hurt anywhere?" She asked, eyeing the bloody wound on his neck.

He shook his head. "I- I'm fine. Just feel really tired. I think i'm gonna..." Stiles let out a exhausted sigh.

Melissa carefully helped him lie back down, the other nurses worked to properly hook him up to machinery as she did so. He was out cold before his head even touched the pillow. Once he was out, everyone stood silently, waiting for something else to happen. Melissa eyed the monitors, waiting to see if they showed anything.

"Is he okay?" A nurse asked.

"I think so." Melissa said as she sighed in relief. "Everything looks normal. Let's get his neck cleaned and patched up and let him sleep." Melissa said, gaze already in hand.

~0~

"Mom! Is he okay?" Scott asked as his mother walked up to him. The pack had been escorted to the waiting room after Stiles had been stable. They had been there since.

"He's fine. He's sleeping now and should be up in a few hours." Melissa reassured her son.

"What about the wound? Was it a bite? Did it look like a bite to you?" Scott asked.

His mom shook her head. "No, it didn't look right for it to be a wolf bite. Why? Do you think it is?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Scott shook his head. "I don't know. I felt something...supernatural when he was first brought in. Whatever bit him wasn't normal."

"I felt it too." Derek suddenly chimed in. "But it isn't a wolf bite, either. Something's different about it. Something off."

"If it wasn't a wolf bite, then what was it?" Sheriff Stilinski asked.

"What are they saying bit him?" Scott asked.

Melissa's lips pulled into a tight line. "They're not sure yet." She said.

"Did he seem any different? Like something's changed?" Derek asked.

Melissa shook her head. "No, everything is completely normal. His blood pressure really low from the blood loss, so we had to hook him up to a blood transfusion and the wound had to be stitched, but other than that, he's totally fine. I'll keep an eye on him and I'll tell you of you the second I notice something, but it looks like he'll be able to go home by sometime late tomorrow. There's really not all that much wrong with him." Melissa said.

Sheriff Stilinski turned to Derek. "How long does it take for a wolf bite to change someone?" He asked.

"Not long," Derek said. "We should know by time he wakes up."


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf

Teen Vampire

Chapter 2

"He didn't turn." Scott said simply, his arms crossed over his chest.

Derek made a quick nod in agreement. Stiles had been attacked just over a day ago. The sun was setting and he was being released from the hospital. The pack was left severely confused by the events that lead after Stiles waking up. He wasn't a werewolf, they couldn't even sense something supernatural on him anymore. It was almost like the attack had never happened. Once he had gotten a blood transfusion, he was almost back to his normal self.

"Something still feels very off about all of this." Derek said.

"All of this is off. I don't get, what happened to him out there? What attacked him?" Scott wondered out loud.

"I don't know, but I get the feeling that this is isn't the end of it. Everything about this is just wrong." Derek said.

Scott sighed. "Whatever the thing was that attacked him, it looks like we can't do anything about it right now. I'm going to go get Stiles so we can get out of here." The young alpha said as he walked into his best friend's hospital room. Stiles was changing out of the hospital gown and into some clothes his father brought.

Scott watched his best friend as the teen threw on his jacket. It was strange. He looked so normal, so healthy; it was like the attack had never happened. Well, he didn't look completely healthy. The bloody bandage on his neck was still a fresh reminder of the initial attack and he looked a little pale.

"Something wrong, Scotty?" Stiles said suddenly, breaking the wolf from his train of thought.

"What?"

"You look kinda out of it."

"No, no. I was just thinking." Scott said. He looked up at Stiles with a concerned expression. "You sure you're alright? I mean, you lost a lot of blood."

Stiles shook his head. "I feel fine. I feel pretty good, actually. The transfusion helped. I'm sorry if I scared you." Stiles's eye were downcast, a hint of sadness pulling at them. Scott knew why. He still felt guilty over the whole nogitsune ordeal, especially Allison's death. He hated it when he made people worry about him now and did whatever he could to avoid causing people grief.

Scott bit his lip, shaking the thought from his head. "So," he started nervously. "You really don't remember anything?"

Stiles sighed in frustration. "No, nothing. I've tried to but it's just blank. I can't remember anything from yesterday." Stiles caught a very concerned look on his best friend's face. He scratched at his temple. "So, if it wasn't a werewolf, then what was it?" He asked finally, knowing that the question was driving Scott insane.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out." Scott paused for a moment, eyeing his human friend. "So, do you even want to be a werewolf? I mean, if you had been turned, would you have been okay with it?" He asked.

Stiles shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe one day, but I guess that I'm just not ready to lose my humanity." He said.

They awkwardly stared at each other for a while. It had been an unspoken touchy subject between them. Whether or not Stiles wanted to be a werewolf. He had been offered the bite before and had denied it, albeit it was from Peter, but he never asked Derek or even Scott for it. Scott always wondered why Stiles didn't want it but never asked. Something always held him back, like he was scared what the answer was going to be.

The alpha sighed, breaking the silence. "Hey, as long as you're okay, then I guess that's all that matters." Scott said, slapping Stiles across the shoulder.

"Yeah, can we get out of here, now? I want to go home and sleep." Stiles said, already starting to act like his normal jittery self.

"You just woke up a few hours ago." Scott pointed out.

"I know, but I'm still tired."

Scott snorted in amusement. "Fine, let's go. I need to start on some homework anyway."

~0~

"Are you sure you don't to stay home, son?" Sheriff Stilinski asked his son the next morning.

Stiles groaned as he gathered his books into his backpack. "Dad, I'm not staying home. Now go to work, you're going to be late."

John sighed and rolled his eyes at his son. "Okay, but if you get to feeling bad, you head home. You hear me?"

"Bye, Dad." Stiles said.

"Hear me?"

"Okay, yes. I will go home if I start to feel sick." Stiles said, flailing his arms around a bit. His dad gave him a satisfied nod and headed downstairs. The teen sighed, itching at the bandage on his neck. The thing was irritating him. He really just wanted to rip the thing off and be done with it. Wait, didn't he have to change it out anyway?

Stiles went to the bathroom, gauze in hand and stood in front of the mirror. He carefully pulled back the old gauze and threw it in the trash. He looked back up to inspect the wound. "What the hell?" He gasped. The wound was gone, even the stitches were. There wasn't even a scar. He rubbed his hand over the skin where the bite wound should have been, just make sure.

For a moment, he thought he was dreaming. He grabbed a random bottle from the drug cabinet and checked to see if he could read the instructions. He sighed in relief when he was able to. He lifted up his hands to count his fingers, finding only ten. Just as he was about to drop his hands, something caught his eye. There was a simple white bracelet made of pure metal on his right wrist. Blood red lettering was centered on the jewelry.

"Reprima?" He read aloud, thouroughly confused. Where the hell did the bracelet come from? He didn't recall owning it, let alone buying the thing. He contemplated taking it off but his train of thought was broken when he caught a glance at his alarm clock. "Shit!" He rushed out of the bathroom, the bracelet momentarily forgotten. He didn't want to be late.

He threw open the front door and suddenly yelped in pain as the sun's ray's hit his eyes. It burned like crazy. He stepped back into the safety of his shaded home and blinked in confusion. What the hell? The sun never bothered him before. He huffed in frustration. He didn't have time for this. He grabbed his old pair of sunglasses from the counter, threw them on and ran to his jeep.

In his haste to get to school, he didn't notice how strong the smell of his old jeep was or how incredibly vibrant the colors were. His hyperactive mind didn't give him a chance to notice as he sped to school. Once he finally reached the parking lot, he killed the jeep's engine and ran in the school. Stiles made a quick stop at his locker and then ran to his first class.

He hastily sat down, letting his back hit the floor. "Dude, you were almost late. What happened?" Scott asked, confused. It wasn't often that Stiles was late to school.

"I just lost track of time." Stiles said.

"Dude!" Scott said with wide eyes. "Your neck, it's healed!"

Stiles slapped a hand over his now wound-less neck, having forgotten it had healed. " I know. I just noticed before I left the house." Stiles said.

"How can it be gone?" Scott asked, astonished. "You're not a werewolf."

Stiles gave his friend an exaggerated shrug, sending his shoulders so high up, it looked like he didn't have a neck.

"McCall, Stilinski! Shut up!" Coach Finstock shouted at them.

Both boys shrunk a little, immediately silencing their conversation. They had no choice but to wait until class was over until they could continue their conversation. Coach Finstock eyed them with hostility as he passed out a test. Scott and Stiles sent each other looks of annoyance before starting their own tests.

The room fell dead silent, only an occasional cough and rustle of paper could be heard. That is, to normal ears. Something was up with Stiles's. He blinked in confusion, when the room hummed with the constant buzz of noise. He could hear everyone's breathing, every scratch of the pencil, wipe of an eraser, click of the pen, everything. The worst was the beating. Everyone's heart beat sounded like loud drums to him. He could almost see the blood in Scott's veins under his skin.

The coppery smell of blood was almost overwhelming. Every scent was incredibly strong, stronger than it should have humanly been. He could smell Danny's cologne from the other side of the room like he was sitting shoulder-to-shoulder to him. He got a strong whiff of mint gum from the coach as he sat at his desk.

The words on his paper was too bold, too sharp and the floor under his feet was too detailed. He could see every individual hair on the girl's hair in front of him. The color in the room was so vibrant that it made his eyes water. He could see every leaf on the tree just outside the window. He was suddenly overly aware of the fabric on his skin and the feel of the pencil and the paper under his hands.

Everything felt too surreal, too detailed and sharp. It was like his senses were in total overdrive. Stiles vaguely wondered if this is what Scott had initially experienced when he was turned. The absolute worst, though, was the sound of the blood in everyone. Every beat, sent him further over the edge. He could smell it, taste it, see it and it was delicious. It made him hungry.

Stiles suddenly felt nauseous. He couldn't take being in the room any longer. With out a single word, he got up from his seat and fled the room as fast as he could. He ran into the men's room and ran to the sinks. No one else was in the bathroom, something that he was incredibly thankful for at the moment.

He gripped the sink like it was a lifeline as he fought to calm himself. His senses were too strong for him to handle. Confusion pulled at him. What the hell was going on? Why were senses so strong and why had his wound healed so fast? Why did the thought of blood make him hungry?

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut for a split second before letting them fly open. He looked up, craning his neck so he could see in the mirror. His eyes went wide; letting go of the sink like it was made of hot embers. "What the...?" He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He should have been staring at his normal reflection with absolutely nothing wrong with it but...it wasn't.

He had fangs. Long, sharp, deadly fangs. They were so unlike Scott's, whose were more animal like; wild, feral. Stiles's were almost elegant and, dare he say it, seductive. They were incredible. But that wasn't all, Stiles's eyes were no longer their usual light brown. They were a deep dark, glowing blue. It was like looking into the darkest depths of the night. The sight of them made the teen shiver.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to have fangs and glowing eyes. There was no way in hell that he was a werewolf. He started to panic. What the hell was going on? What was happening to him?

Stiles panicked and stumbled away from the line of sinks. He couldn't tear his eyes away from his own reflection. He had to be dreaming but he wasn't. he counted his fingers and he read the label on the hand dryer. This was real, he was awake.

Overwhelmed by a sudden sense of terror, Stiles screamed.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realized a while after already posting that I accidentally skipped a chapter. No worries, though, I went back and fixed it. The chapters are now in correct order and I also posted a new chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.

Teen Vampire

Chapter 3

"McCall! Stay in your seat!" Coach yelled. "I'm sick you and Stilinski running out of my classroom whenever you please."

"But, Coach, something might be wrong with him!" Scott protested.

"Too bad! Your ass is staying in that seat or else you'll have detention!"

Scott groaned in frustration and slumped back into his desk. He was worried sick. Stiles's emotions had gone out of control just before he sprinted out of the room. The alpha was scared that Stiles had somehow gotten another panic attack. He needed to be there for him if he did.

A sudden scream met Scott's werewolf ears. He jumped up from his seat, recognizing the voice at Stiles's. "McCall, sit your ass down!" With a barely audible inhuman growl, he sat back in his seat. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, scared that something was terribly wrong with his friend. He never screamed when he was having a panic attack.

Scott looked over his shoulder, meeting the concerned eyes of the were-coyote. Malia looked just as strung out as he did. Her eyes kept darting to the coach and to the door. She wanted leave and find Stiles just as much as he did. Scott bit his lip and stared up at the clock, begging for it to move faster. The sooner the class ended, the sooner he could find Stiles.

~0~

What the hell was happening to him? Stiles couldn't look away from his reflection. His wrongly colored eyes were wide with shock and terror. What happened to his light brown, practically honey colored eyes? Why were they a midnight blue and why were there fangs where his normal sized canines should have been?

Stiles reached up and touch one of the sharp fangs. It was real. No amount of pulling and prodding was going to get them to go away. He had fangs! Him! Stiles Stilinski! Son of Beacon Hills sheriff with ADHD who has a history of panic attacks, sleep walking, and doesn't know when to shut up, had fangs! The supposed only true human of Scott McCall's werewolf pack. Well he wasn't anymore. He didn't know what he was but he was damn sure that he wasn't human. Human's didn't have fangs and glowing midnight blue eyes and could hear people's heart beats.

Wait a minute.

Stiles's senses where now heightened, he had fangs, and he could smell the blood of every person that was in the classroom. The blood had smelt amazing to him to the point that it made him hungry. The gears started turning in his head. Fangs, blood lust, heightened senses. He wasn't a werewolf, so what was the only other creature that came to mind?

"A vampire."

"AH!" Stiles screamed in terror when a sudden deep, enticing voice echoed off the bathroom walls. He flailed around and was met with the sight of a man. He looked like he was in his mid thirties yet not a single wrinkle graced his skin. His vibrant, combed blonde hair was free of grey hairs and he was dressed rather lavishly for someone standing in the boys room of a high school.

"Who are you?" Stiles asked.

"It would be smart to put the fangs up, boy." The man said with a sly grin.

Stiles's eyes widened at the man. His hand shot up to his mouth, he fingered the sharp canines. Who the hell was this guy? He didn't seemed shocked in the slightest over the fact that he had fangs. Now that the teen thought about it, the man did seem familiar. He had a powerful aura about him. Did he know him? He felt like he'd met him before.

The man chuckled. "You don't remember anything from that night." It was statement.

Stiles's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Wha-what? What are you-" Stiles cut himself off mid-sentence when the memory came rushing back to him. Being jumped, getting bitten, the blue eyes and the fangs, and the blood. God, the blood. Stiles looked at the man in horror. "It was you." He breathed out. "You attacked me!" He yelled at the man.

"I gave you the gift of immortality!" The man shot back, angrily. "I gave you power. You've been reborn into one of the greatest creatures in existence."

The teen was quiet for a moment as his mind played over everything that the man had said to him. Either this was a very lucid dream, a sick prank, or the man in front of him really was telling the truth and Stiles really was what the man said he was. "So let me get this straight," Stiles started. "You're saying that you're a blood-sucking immortal vampire and that you turned me into a blood-sucking vampire that night you attacked me?" Stiles asked.

The man nodded. "Is it so hard to believe, boy? You're a-well, used to be- a human that runs with a pack of wolves. You're best friend is an Alpha, you've been possessed by a Nogitsune, your best friend is having a little romance with a Kitsune, the girl you've had a crush on since third grade is a Banshee, You know a Were-Coyote, you've faced an Alpha Pack, you-"

"Okay, I get it!" Stiles snapped.

"Do you? Your whole life has been immersed in the supernatural, yet you're having trouble grasping the idea of a vampire?'

"This is Beacon Hills, we don't get vampires, we get werewolves." Stiles said.

"Beacon Hills get's way more than just werewolves, Stiles, you know that." The man said slyly.

Stiles bit his lip and flinched, forgetting the fact that he had fangs now. He wiped the blood away and stared at the bloody smear on his hand. "Why me? Why did you turn me?"

"Why wouldn't I turn you? You're already well versed in the world of the supernatural, you're quite brilliant, selfless, those dogs would be helpless without you, and you have an incredibly strong will. If anyone deserves immortality, it's you."

He stared at the man in confusion and horror. "How do you know all of this about me? How do you even know who I am and just who the hell are you?" Stiles spat angrily, feeling as if he had stalked.

"I've been watching you, Stiles, for quite a long time. I needed a Fledgling, a loyal one and you fit the bill. As for me? Well, I'm your Master now."

Stiles glared at the man, unknowingly baring his fangs at him. "I don't really know what the hell that means, but you are NOT my Master." He hissed.

The man raised an amused eyebrow at him. "Oh? I assure you, I am."

"No you're not! So enough with the bullshitting and just tell me what the hell you want from me and tell me who the hell you are! I've asked you twice now and you still haven't given me your name!" Stiles spat angrily.

The man's eyes suddenly turned that haunting blue just like that last night. His pupils turned white and the whites if his eyes turned black. The man bared his fangs at Stiles. "I am your Master!" The man roared. "I am Roman Daremont, the Head vampire of the California Covenant and you will obey me! Now put away your fangs and dim your eyes. I've had enough of your insolence! You will continue on with your day and not breath a single word of this to anyone, especially your lowly dogs friends. You do not bite, attack, or feed on anyone. I will come for you after tonight and I show you a thing or two in obedience!" The man, Roman, spat out, angrier than Stiles had ever seen him.

In the blink of an eye, Stiles's fangs were gone and his eyes were back to their normal color. He now stood alone in the bathroom, Roman having left without a trace. Stiles stared at the now empty space in front of him in shock. He had felt so helpless when Roman flew of the handle, like he was being crushed under the weight of the man's power.

The bell rang, causing Stiles to nearly jump out of his skin and cover his overly sensitive ears. That stupid bell was nearly four times louder now and he wasn't even anywhere near it. He washed away the blood on his hand and left the bathroom, feeling on edge.

"Stiles!" Scott after his friend, running after him in the hallway. "Dude, you okay? You ran of class like your ass was on fire. Did you have another panic attack? The werewolf asked with concern.

"No, I'm fine. I just felt a little sick. I'm good now. Look, I'm going to get to class, I'll see you around." Stiles said, the words rushing out of his mouth before he could think. He fats walked away from his best friend, ignoring his concerned calls.

Stiles bolted into his next class and ignored Kira's concerned stares. He wondered if Scott had said anything. When the werewolf walked in, Stiles wouldn't dare look up at him. For the entire hour, he never looked up, too lost in thought. A Vampire. He was a vampire. A blood-sucking vampire. That bastard, Roman, ripped his humanity from him without even asking and now he was probably stuck at the age of seventeen for eternity now. He had to watch all his loved ones grow old and die while he stayed the same. He had to drink blood now. Oh god, did he have to kill people? What if he lost control? What if he hurt his father?

He gripped his seat, trying desperately to block out the sound of everyone's heart beats. It was like the world was mocking him.

He scrunched his nose when he suddenly became aware of the scent of wet dog. He grimaced in disgust. Where the hell was that smell coming from? He eyes went to Scott. Shit, he actually smelled like a dog. Wait, did that mean Scott would be able to smell that he was a Vampire? He didn't seem to notice yet.

Stiles noticed something else. The sound of Scott's heart beat and the smell of his blood did not have the same effect as everyone else's. He actually found the smell of Scott's blood rather revolting. Was it because he was a werewolf? Was that legend that vampires and werewolves hated each other actually true? But he didn't suddenly feel hatred for his friend, he just thought he smelled bad. He vaguely wondered what would happen if he told Scott that.

Wait, vampires didn't breath, right? And what about heartbeats? Wasn't he supposed to not have one? He brought his hand to his chest and felt the steady beat of his heart. He looked down and caught the sight of the bracelet on his wrist. Hey, maybe Roman gave it to him, but why? What was it for? Did it do anything?

Stiles shook his head, trying to shake out the onslaught of thoughts. His brain was going a mile a minute. His head was going to explode at this rate. Too many questions plagued his mind, curiosity eating away any bit of focus he had. He needed to calm down and wait. He was supposed to see Roman later tonight. He would get all his answers then. He just needed to be patient and keep calm.

His eyes widened. Shit, he hadn't had any blood since he turned. How long could a Vampire go without blood before they went all psycho and ate the town? What if he went crazy at school? Wait, what would happen if Scott tried to wolf out in front of him? If vampires and werewolves hated each other, then would that mean that Stiles would attack him. Or would Scott attack Stiles. Would he vampire out when Scott wolfed out?

Shit! Stiles shook his head again. He needed to calm down and stop letting his mind wander. Pay attention to class! He needed to pay attention to what the teacher was doing. Aw, he could smell her perfume. That stuff is nasty.

Stiles inwardly groaned. There was no way in hell he was going to make it through the day without his head exploding. He hoped he got used to this, otherwise he was royally screwed.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story of mine that I've been working on for quite a while. It's originally posted on Fanficiton.net and I'll now slowly ( with slight editing) be uploading it here as well now.


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